


Sympathy for the Devil

by m3aculpa



Series: Blood Music [6]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Glee, Glee/Buffy the Vampire Slayer crossover
Genre: Community: 10_hurt_comfort, Gore, M/M, Sexual Content, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-10
Updated: 2010-10-10
Packaged: 2017-10-24 00:22:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/256753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m3aculpa/pseuds/m3aculpa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They have their good days, when things are almost back to normal. They have their bad days, when Spike curl up with a bottle of Jack and his cigarettes. Spike's not telling what happened to him. But when a fight escalates, he is forced to come clean.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Sympathy for the Devil

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** Sympathy for the Devil  
>  **Fandom:** Glee/Buffy the Vampire Slayer crossover **  
> Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Characters/Pairings:** Kurt, Spike, Spike/Kurt, Puck, Finn, mentions of Karofsky and Azimio  
>  **Warnings:** Glee: AU after season 1. Buffy: Set after 4x8 "Pangs", but before 4x14 "Goodbye Iowa". Screwy timelines, in other words. Spike's language. Descriptions of torture.  
>  **Word count:** 3136  
>  **Summary** : They have their good days, when things are almost back to normal. They have their bad days, when Spike curl up with a bottle of Jack and his cigarettes. Spike's not telling what happened to him. But when a fight escalates, he is forced to come clean.  
>  **a/n:** Sorry it is late, but real life ate my brain. And I needed to watch season 4 of Buffy to know where I wanted to go with this. I know now, but it might take a little while. My gravestone will say: 'life killed m3aculpa'.  
> 

He prodded. The answering shooting pain meant that _yes_ , his arm was broken. He bit down savagely and tried not cry. It was a clean break, however. If he got help to align it back in its right position, it would be okay. He still remembered the horror story Spike had told him about breaking his leg and Angelus not letting him get help to put it back in the right place. He’d been forced to limp around on the malformed leg for months until Angelus re-broke it and let it heal properly.  
   
“Noah,” he commanded quietly, “help me put it back properly.”  
   
He could feel the healing process start and motioned for his fledge to hurry. A pale hand with painted nails reached for him. Instinctively he twisted well out of reach, screaming in agony when it shifted the broken bone. He panted harshly to regain control over his body.  
   
“Don’t touch me!” he snapped when the hand tried to reach for him again.  
   
Spike looked like it physically hurt him when Kurt refused to let him touch him. But he did stay away. Kurt gave him a contemptuous glance. Without his duster, Spike looked much smaller and less imposing. He wasn’t imposing anymore, Kurt corrected. He couldn’t bite anything. What could be more pathetic than a vampire that couldn’t kill humans? There was a reason why they looked down on Angel so much.  
   
Noah aligned the arm properly and he gritted his teeth against the pain, waiting for it to mend. He sighed when he felt the bone knit itself back together. He closed his eyes. It wasn’t fair of him to feel contempt for his sire. It wasn’t. He loved Spike after all. Loved him enough to tear down cities for him and bring back unconscious bodies for him to feed from.  
   
“’m sorry, princess,” Spike said when Kurt carefully flexed his now healed arm.  
   
Kurt rose and pecked him on the lips with a sigh. He squealed when Spike pulled him down onto his lap. His breathing increased when Spike looked down on him. His breath hitched when Spike lowered his head down and kissed him gently on the lips. His tongue flicked out and teased Kurt’s plump bottom lip. Slowly he teased and nipped until Kurt’s lips were tingling. As far as apologies went, this one really wasn’t bad.  
   
Kurt sighed against Spike’s lips and let him dominate the kiss. He was perfectly fine with being pliant right now. His arms rose up and he pressed Spike closer to him. He dug his nails into Spike’s back and the man growled in response. Kurt wanted to hurt him, like he had hurt him. It made him feel good to know that Spike could hurt demons. He just wished they hadn’t discovered that titbit of information by Spike throwing him into the wall and breaking his arm.  
   
They had their good days. Days where things almost were what they had been. Kurt would find a pretty boy and bring him back to their new crypt in Sunnydale. He’d play with him and Spike would watch in amusement. It reminded Kurt of when they had caught Noah and Finn and it made him all the more creative since Spike couldn’t join in.  
   
Then there were days when Spike would curl up against the wall. He’d drink moodily and not respond to any of Kurt’s prodding. The air would be thick with cigarette smoke and any attempt to remove either the bottle of Jack Daniels or the pack of smokes would result in a vicious snarl. But those days were better than those when Spike tore through the crypt screaming and yelling. Or the nightmares. Kurt hadn’t known that vampires _could_ have nightmare before Spike woke screaming up from his.  
   
Spike wouldn’t talk. Kurt kept expecting him to talk, but he _wouldn’t_. Kurt needed to know what had happened. What could possibly put fear into Spike?  
   
He had only offered him the Gem of Amara. It had sent Spike into a furious rant that had frightened Kurt badly. Trying to calm him down, had made Spike throw into the wall. All he had wanted was for Spike to be _safe_. Kurt didn’t need the gem as much as Spike needed it. But he had forgotten how sinfully prideful Spike was in his role as a master vampire. He was the one who protected, not the one who was protected.  
   
“Let’s talk, princess,” Spike said and he looked away slightly. “Alone.”  
   
Noah growled. He looked like he would refuse, but Kurt smiled at him and urged him to go on. He obviously did not like it, but he grabbed Finn and left. Finn looked like… he always did nowadays. Empty. For some reason that made Kurt’s black little heart sad. He missed a little of Finn’s fire – but not his tendency to kick chairs. That got old after a while. It would be nice with some hint of an alive being behind those dead eyes, though.  
   
When they were gone, Kurt untangled himself from Spike’s hold. He stood and walked over to the other end of the room, placing the open space between them. He fixed Spike with his eyes and crossed his arms over his narrow chest. Just because it was a nice apology didn’t mean that Spike was forgiven. He broke his _arm_. And Kurt was capable of being a vindictive bitch when he wanted to.  
   
“So?” he said and raised an eyebrow. “Talk.”  
   
Spike pulled out his smokes with flourish and lit up. Kurt was familiar enough with him to know that he was stalling for time. Spike was probably the most emotional vampire he had ever met (of course, he’d only met a few). He could break down and cry and rage. But he didn’t like to _talk_ about his feeling. And whatever it was that had led to this predicament, it scared Spike shitless. That scared Kurt more than was healthy.  
   
“Woke up in a cell, I did,” Spike muttered and puffed smoke like his unlife depended on it. “Had no bloody memory of the days before. I thought I’d fake unconsciousness when two humans came by and find out what was going on.”  
   
Kurt smiled. Spike didn’t have patience for planning very often, but when he did he was devious.  
   
“Something was,” Spike struggled to find the right words, “ _wrong_. There were other demons in the other cells. The humans; one bloke was dressed as a soldier, I hadn’t seen him before. The other two were dressed like scientists. Looked like it was sodding Halloween, it did!”  
   
Getting onto his feet, he started to pace around in agitation. Kurt carefully kept his distance. He knew how unpredictable and unstable Spike had become, after all. His arm throbbed in remembrance. Despite that he wanted to gather his sire up into his arms, he also knew that would be foolish. Even with the gem of Amara around his finger, it would be an easy thing to remove the ring and do some damage to him.  
   
It felt absurd – being afraid of _Spike_. He’d known how dangerous the older vampire was before and appreciated it. He had no reason to fear Spike.  
   
“They opened my cell; called me Hostile Seventeen, they did,” Spike scowled. “I took care of them easily enough. Slight trace of a headache; didn’t think much of it then. A fledgling told me that he knew the way out. I wasn’t about to say no thanks to cannon fodder.  
   
“Boys who fancied themselves soldiers came running once the alarms were blaring. We ran. I threw the fledge at ‘em when he’d shown me out of the place.” He lit another cigarette with agitation, even as Kurt started to frown at the cigarette smoke clouding the crypt. “Somehow I knew it must be the slayer’s fault. I mean, what isn’t she involved in?  
   
“Of course she wasn’t home, she never is when I need her. Stupid bitch. Red was there, though. Invited me in, in fact,” Spike smirked and shook his head. “Never understood how they manage to survive in Sunnyhell; she never looked to see who it was. Of course, I couldn’t bite her.”  
   
His face darkened and Kurt feared that he would go into one of his broods again. He wondered if it was genetic. After all, Spike usually complained over the fact that Angel did it. Now Spike had really done some brooding of his own and Kurt started to understand why Spike thought that it was so annoying.  
   
“Felt like my head would split into two, it did,” Spike continued darkly. “Course, that was the moment the slayer _decided_ to show up. Bitch. Together with the soldier boys. Lucky for me they decided to fight each other and I ran.  
   
“This thing in my head,” he made a wide gesture, “it only got worse. I couldn’t hurt people without being crippled. _Thinking_ about hurting humans make my head ache. And the worse it bloody well gets, the more I start to remember.”  
   
He got silent. Kurt didn’t like the silence a bit. Impatiently he waited for Spike to pick up where he had left off, but it wouldn’t happen.  
   
“Remember what?” he asked softly; or aimed for softly. His voice went a little high, slightly shrill, from nerves and bad feelings.  
   
“They’re military,” Spike said so quietly, the boy had to strain to hear it. “Organised and probably run by the government too. Sods have no idea what they’re dealing with.”  
   
Kurt was ashamed to admit that he squeaked a little, “The government?”  
   
“Princess,” Spike said and his eyes were troubled, “understand: ‘ve done things. Horrible things. Things that I am very proud of. Nastiness. Horror. Chaos. Stuff ‘m good at. But what they are doin’? It never would have crossed me mind. It’s evil of completely another level.”  
   
Suddenly Kurt wasn’t sure he wanted to hear more. If Spike hadn’t considered doing it, well, then it would be the stuff of nightmares. Worse than nightmares. Stuff of hell.  
   
“Took demons, they did,” Spike snarled. “Straight from the street and into the cells. Me? Princess, they shot me with a stun-gun from _behind_!  
   
“’course they tried to make it _noble_.” He spat the word out. “Little boys playing a game they had no business in! Containing _hostiles_ – all is well and good, but _experimenting_ on them? Some things, like the chip in my bleeding head, I understand. Neutralise the threat. Doesn’t mean ‘m not pissed and won’t torture them to death once I get it out of my head.  
   
“But some things? Plain wrong. Cruel. Nasty. Stuff that would have made Angelus blanch. They put me through a vivisection. A vivisection! I can tell you what a heart looks like after a century. It is not pretty. And, yes,” he added when he saw Kurt’s horrified look, “I was conscious. Of course I passed out. Few times. Always waited until I came to again, they did. Poking around in my insides and cataloguing, measuring, speaking about it when I could hear. Noting how much pain I was in. And ‘ve split people open when they were alive. I let ‘em die. I didn’t keep ‘em alive.”  
   
Kurt shuddered. He wanted to be sick. But vampires couldn’t throw up, so he was forced to suffer through the nausea. His stomach twisted and churned. Yes, he played with his food. He drew out the suffering. But he never pretended that it was for a noble cause. It was fun, plain and simple. But he could blame his lack of soul for it. Humans, like the slayer, sat on their high horse and claimed that their soul made them all so much better. But this? Where was the good in this? What role did that precious soul have in this evil?  
   
“They fed us maybe twice a week,” Spike said with a speculating look on his face. “Well, sometimes they didn’t bother. Starved me for a couple of weeks; turned into a bleeding mummy until they fed me again. And I was aware. So thirsty and aware. I could _hear_ the blood rushing through their veins. Another time they fed me blood with holy water in it. Not enough for me to smell it, no. Just enough to burn through my oesophagus.  
   
“Another time they shoved a crucifix into my mouth and forced it shut. Took twelve solider boys to hold me down. The _scientists_ noted how long time it took my mouth to start smoking. Then they noted how many days it took for the wound to heal. They also tried other symbols. It doesn’t have to be a cross, for your information. Anything symbol with a religious significance. Bloody hell, it hurt!”  
   
Kurt wanted to cry. Okay, maybe he was one of those emotional vampires too. So far he’d not met any vampire like him and his sire. But this – he imagined few people wouldn’t cry. They had hurt his sire. The sadness mixed with a murderous rage and he stepped closer to Spike. The other vampire didn’t reach out to touch him. He had clung to Kurt for comfort after the nightmares. But he didn’t touch him now.  
   
“I was awake when they implanted the chip,” Spike said. “Felt ‘em poking around in there. They had never done something like it before and… and… well, it wasn’t easy. Trial and error, an’ everything.”  
   
Spike’s voice trembled and faltered. Kurt gently took the pack of cigarettes and the lighter from his hands and put them down. Carefully he wrapped his arms around Spike’s neck and hugged him. Hopefully Spike wouldn’t take it the wrong way. He just wanted to offer his sire some comfort. His own tears splashed down onto Spike’s neck.  
   
Spike’s hands rose up and grabbed onto Kurt. He shuddered slightly.  
   
“It’s over now, princess,” he muttered.  
   
“It’s not,” Kurt mumbled against the pale skin, pressing a tender kiss on Spike’s neck. “Not until I take a flamethrower to that place and leave them to burn inside!”  
   
Spike chuckled. Then gasped out a curse about the bloody chip. Kurt closed his eyes against his anger. Blood was not only nourishment for vampires. The endorphins gave them a rush and everybody tasted differently. Blood, the heartbeat, was comforting. Taking that away was like putting a flower in a dark, cold and lonely space.  
   
Lonely… Kurt swallowed harshly. They had put Spike in a cell by himself. Kurt could picture it: glass door, like a cage, and white fluorescent light. Walls so white that they were blinding. And they had put Spike alone in there. Maybe he could catch a glimpse of the demon across, but he’d been alone. Some vampires were lone wolves, but Spike definitely wasn’t. He had lived with his sire and grandsire and that grandsire’s sire for a long time. Then with his sire for God knows how many years. Now with Kurt and Finn and Noah.  
   
Spike liked having his family around. He must have been scared and painfully lonely.  
   
“Thought I was going to die in there, princess,” Spike murmured against Kurt’s hair. “Honestly did.”  
   
Kurt let out a shaky breath, “I am going to take a flamethrower to that place. But before that I am locking the decision-makers in with a couple of demons. Then leaving them to burn inside alive.”  
   
“My devious princess.”  
   
He could hear the smile in his lover’s voice. He held onto Spike and traced patterns on that muscular neck. They both needed to be close to each other. Kurt shuddered with the realisation of just how _close_ he had been to losing his lover.  
   
“I need a drink,” Spike said after a while.  
   
And Kurt knew that he didn’t mean a bottle of Jack – blood was comfort, after all. He stepped back and offered his neck up to Spike. Lowering his head, Spike gently and sensually bit down on his neck. Gasping, Kurt’s knees buckled under him and they sank to the ground. The feelings of ice and fire rushed through his body and he felt Spike’s erection dig into his thigh. His cock hardened and he moaned.  
   
The blood pulsated as it left his body. It hurt. But it was a delicious kind of pain; only heightened by the changing temperature of his body. He was so cold for a moment that his teeth shattered together. Then he was so hot he wanted to tear his clothes off. If he could move, that is. He could only cling to Spike. He mewled and moaned and gasped and _sighed_ as his cock kept on throbbing in arousal.  
   
He felt his loins tightening and then he was coming, soaring out of his body, over the room, before crashing back down into his body. They lay gasping on the floor, despite not needing to breathe. Spike was pressed against him, crushing him into the floor. He had also come in his pants from the intensity of the bite. Kurt turned, desperate to catch a kiss. Their mouths crashed together and their tongues battled, entwining and trying to take dominance over the kiss. Spike broke the kiss with a gasp.  
   
“Bloody ‘ell!”  
   
Kurt chuckled. It was unpredictable when Spike would loose his ‘h’s’. But sometimes he just did. Kurt always knew that he’d blown his sire’s mind when it happened.  
   
“Well, that was intense.”  
   
Silence once again descended over them and Kurt lazily traced patterns on Spike’s arm. The tight, black t-shirt left very little to the imagination and those deliciously muscled arms bare. Kurt looked up into his eyes and smiled.  
   
“So, where do we go from here?” he asked.  
   
Spike looked indecisive.  
   
“What do you want to do?”  
   
“Torch the bleeding place!” Spike snarled, coming into game-face. “But we need a plan. Good plan. Smart plan. They are too many for us to deal with.”  
   
Military. Organised. Nothing like bullies. There was nothing that could be held as leverage against them. Even if they kidnapped the leader, they would sacrifice him or her as collateral for the greater good. For all their not really knowing what they were up against, they had the advantage in numbers. Their little nest didn’t have much of a chance to beat them.  
   
“I’m going to hate myself for suggesting this,” Kurt said and sighed, “but maybe the slayer could help. I am not relishing the thought of subjecting myself to the witch’s particular brand of fashion eyesore, but I think that the slayer might not enjoy somebody intruding on her turf.”  
   
“Sodding hell,” Spike groaned. “You’re right.”  
   
Off to see a bitch… no, he meant slayer. But were the words really mutually exclusive?

  



End file.
